Under The Table
by Malandra
Summary: After years of separation, the brothers have found each other again. But when Sam brings his brother to work with him, Dean gets himself into some trouble with Sam's boss...


Dean huffed, letting his head loll back as he tapped his fingers against the posh little sofa. Occasionally someone in a suit would rush by, hardly giving him a second glance. Dean tugged at the collar of his shirt – he'd been forced to wear a tie, for Criss' sake – and sighed loudly. Sam's office was just down the hall and he was dying to go to his brother, but he'd been explicitly told not to bother him until three o'clock. It was currently eleven.

Dean didn't even know why Sam had brought him. His brother had offered some vague reason about showing him what a real working environment liked like, but Dean suspected it was more to keep him out of trouble during the day. Sam, to put it mildly, disapproved of Dean's work as a hitman, but the brothers, having been reunited only recently after years of assuming the other was dead, had spent more time catching up than worrying about their futures.

Their relationship had also morphed into something Dean only would have dreamed of. He was thrilled to be able to kiss and touch Sam, and receive the same in return. It had taken some sorting out, some fights and drunk nights, but now they were...lovers, he supposed was the word. 'Boyfriends' sounded too high school drama and 'partners' was too mature.

Dean was pulled back to the present by a crash as someone dropped a box of files somewhere, starting in his seat and glancing around. He sighed, looking back at the clock, which he swore was moving backwards. Sam had told him not to leave this area... But Dean would be back before three. Sam would never know.

He heaved himself out of his chair and sauntered off down the hall, peeking with interest into the glass-walled conference rooms. Most were boring, just tables of people in prim suits discussing bar graphs, but some of the rooms were holding what Dean assumed were investigations. It was a law firm, after all.

He paused as he passed an open door, which led into a large, spacious office. The opposite wall, facing the outside, was made up of floor-to-ceiling windows. The room was tastefully furnished with some modern love seats and a massive mahogany desk. Knickknacks rested on shelves and end tables throughout the room. Dean had come up with a formula earlier: the amount of useless things in an office was direction proportional to the amount of money the guy had to blow.

He stepped into the room curiously, sending a set of Newton balls swinging as he passed. A Rubik's cube caught his attention before he moved on to a globe that seemed to float in midair. Magnets, he figured. Giving it a spin, Dean realized too late that the door had opened and closed, whipping around to face the man who had walked in.

He was shorter than Dean, and not as broad, but there was something about the way he held himself, something in his blue gaze that was commanding and cold and dangerous. His suit, like the many others in this building, was pressed nicely and crisp, the creases almost as sharp as the stare he gave Dean.

"Uh, sorry, I was just wandering arou—"

"My, my, my. You're Winchester's little toy, aren't you?"

Dean's brow furrowed for a moment – _wait a minute, I'm Winchester_ – before he realized the man meant Sam. "Yeah. I mean, I'm not his toy."

The man smiled knowingly, like he was in on some secret Dean wasn't aware of. "You're a pretty one. Sam knows how to pick 'em, doesn't he?" The man's gaze travelled shamelessly up Dean's body, finally coming to rest on his face.

Dean normally wouldn't have been phased by the treatment – he was gorgeous, getting checked out kind of came with the package – but there was something too self-assured in the icy stare, like the man wanted something and knew he would get it.

"I'll just get going now. It's been a pleasure." As Dean turned to leave, he was frozen to the spot at the man's next words.

"Not so fast, Winchester."

He knew Dean's last name. He hadn't even told the man his first name.

Dean turned slowly, his instincts screaming at him to just get out now. "Sam and I ain't married yet," he said, dropping the polite tone he'd been using. "The name's…Smith."

The man tutted, lounging back in his custom-made office chair. "I'd suggest dropping the attitude. Take a seat." He gestured to one of the love seats, that infuriating smirk plastered across his face.

Dean's teeth ground together and he crossed his arms, remaining standing. "What do you want?"

"I'll cut to chase here, since you seem to be a little thick," the man said, leaning forward on his elbows, fingers steepled in front of him. "My name is Lucifer Novak. I know exactly who you are, Mr. Dean Winchester, and I know your history and your brother's." He sat back and smirked, giving it a moment to sink in.

Dean's mind was racing. He recognized the name. Lucifer was the owner of the firm Sam worked at – this firm – and his brother's direct superior. From what he'd heard, the man was sarcastic, ruthless, and frightening powerful. He claimed to know all about Dean... Did that mean he knew about Dean's work as a gun for hire? How?

"Your list of successful hits is quite impressive, Dean. Unfortunate it's so very illegal."

Dean's gaze snapped up to meet the other man's, sending him a glare. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Lucifer sighed theatrically, lacing his fingers on the desk. "Please, can we skip the denial? I'm here to offer you a deal." He ignored Dean's snort, continuing as if it hadn't happened. "You do what I want, and no one else has to find out about your 'career' or your incestuous relationship. Sam keeps his job, you yours, and we carry on with our lives."

Dean rolled his eyes, headed for the door. "I don't think so." This had to be a bluff, right? He stopped at the call of his name.

"Dean. Look." Lucifer pointed to a large monitor. On it was a collection of photos. Some were of Dean, aiming down the sights of a sniper rifle. Other showed he and his brother in various states of undress, wrapped up in each other, expressions filled with ecstasy... Dean felt sick at the massive invasion of privacy.

"Now, think about this. Best case scenario, I release these and Sam is fired, you lose your integrity in your slime pool of a network, both of you have no future hope for a stable job. Worst case...you both are arrested, mostly likely for life. I've heard prison is an awful place. But if you're lucky, you and Sam may be hunted down and killed by one of your…colleagues." Lucifer's eyes sparked maliciously. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he was enjoying it, the bastard.

Dean took a deep breath, sorting through their options. Who could he go to? Lucifer was the top dog; there was no one to report him to. Killing the man would probably be just as bad. Dean wouldn't risk Sam's job – or Sam's life – for this. When he looked back at Lucifer, his gaze was a fierce glare.

"What. Do you. Want," Dean spat, as if the words were being dragged from his throat.

Lucifer smirked, lounging back. "I knew you'd come through. Now, strip."

Dean blinked. What? He certainly hadn't been expecting that. "Uh, what?"

"You heard me. Do not make me repeat myself." At Dean's obvious hesitation, Lucifer hovered a finger over his mouse. "One click, Dean. I could ruin your lives in one click."

Dean's teeth ground together, his gaze darting between the shades covering the windows that looked into the building and the glass facing the outside.

Lucifer chuckled, pressing a button that closed the blinds on the inside firmly, though the outward-facing windows were left uncovered. "Didn't take you for a shy one, Dean. Now, what did I ask you?"

Dean glared daggers at the man, though it only seemed to amuse him. Reluctantly, he yanked off his tie and undid the buttons on his shirt, ridding himself of his clothes as quickly as possible to deny Lucifer the satisfaction of a strip tease. It seemed to have worked, because a muscle clenched in the executive's jaw. Dean smirked to himself, trying to forget the fact that he was as naked as the day he was born.

Lucifer recovered quickly, pushing his chair back a bit and gesturing. "Come here."

Dean tested his patience, staying rooted for a moment until Lucifer's finger returned to the mouse. His jaw tightened as he stalked towards the man. He stood between the desk and Lucifer, the man's hands locking onto his shoulders and pushing him to his knees. Dean scowled up at him, starting to curse him out when Lucifer stood and disappeared around the desk. He reappeared with Dean's tie in hand, binding his wrists behind his back so quickly that Dean barely had time to react. He was pushed further under the desk before he could protest, Lucifer's crotch level with his face, and Dean's stomach dropped when he realized what the man wanted.

"You're fucking sick, you dickhead. I'm gonna rip you a new one, you piece of– mph!"

He was interrupted by the man's cock, pushed into his mouth unceremoniously. Dean sent Lucifer the deadliest, most threatening glower he could muster, which was received with a mocking smirk and a push on the back of his head.

"Be a good boy, okay? It'll make this easier for the both of us. And if I feel teeth, I have no problems ripping them out of your mouth. You don't need teeth to suck me."

Dean's stomach lurched and he was forced to spread his knees wide to keep from falling over, fighting every motion as Lucifer pushed his mouth down on his cock. He could feel the head hitting the back of his throat and gagged, barely able to breath around the intrusion. Lucifer's fingers massaged his scalp, keeping him from pulling back.

"I'm going to let go, okay Dean? Keep sucking me like the cute whore you are. Remember, Dean. All it takes is one click."

Dean was sorely tempted to pull off when the hand left his hair, though the threat kept him in place. He glared daggers up at Lucifer and received a smugly satisfied smirk in return.

Dean's heart skipped when he heard the door open, relaxing minutely once he realized he couldn't be seen. Only Lucifer's side of the desk was open, and it covered enough of his lap that you'd have to be standing over his shoulder to see Dean.

As the man that had come in chatted with the executive, Dean refused to do any more than just allow the cock to stay in his mouth. Occasionally he would pull off slightly to see if he could get away with it, each attempt at escape earning a sharp tug on his hair. Once the man left, Lucifer looked down at Dean and combed a hand through his hair with mock affection.

"Let's set down some rules, hmm? First: you do what I say, and exactly how I tell you to do it. Second, you keep doing it until I tell you to stop. Third, you don't make any noise. Are we clear?"

Dean stared at him stubbornly until Lucifer sighed, going for the mouse. Dean nodded stiffly.

"Good boy," the man purred, giving a sharp thrust into Dean's mouth. He choked for a moment, breathing quickly once the obstruction was eased back.

"Now, I want you to lick from the base to the head. Nice, long licks. And then lick the head like your favorite damn candy."

Dean's ears burned. Besides this being violating and demeaning, it was mortifying. Lucifer just gave him an expectant look, so Dean pulled his mouth off and scowled deeply, pulling his tongue from the bottom of the man's cock to the top. For Sam. He was doing this for Sam.

Lucifer nodded approvingly. "Now the head."

Dean hesitated before lapping at the head of his dick, tongue darting out.

Lucifer patted his head, smirking. "Good boy. Keep doing that."

Dean spent the next ten minutes doing as he was told, imagining various, bloody ways to kill Lucifer as he dragged his tongue along the man's cock.

Without warning, Lucifer reached down and shoved his dick into Dean's mouth, one hand twisted into his hair and holding his head in place as he thrust into Dean's mouth. Dean couldn't help his gasp of surprise, breathing raggedly through his nose and attempting to send Lucifer a death glare.

"Your lips were made for cocksucking," the man murmured with a smirk, his pace increasing and making Dean's gasps for breath a bit more desperate. "Deep-throat me, Dean. I know you can."

He fought for a second before giving in and letting his throat open, fluttering around Lucifer's cock. For the first time, the man let out a groan and pistoned his cock hard into Dean's throat. Dean was only allowed to breath every few thrusts, his lungs begging for air. Lucifer's grunts came quicker as Dean's vision started to darken, looking up with a plea in his eyes.

Lucifer finally pulled out, and Dean gasped for breath, mouth falling open just in time to catch some of the come the man spurted onto his face. He felt some splash onto his cheeks and lips, shocked, outraged, and infuriated all in the same moment.

Dean started to swear before the cock was pushed back into his mouth, albeit soft now. His eyes were full of rage when he glared up at Lucifer, who leered down at him.

"Aw, did you think I was just going to use those pretty lips once? You're mine until I'm done, Dean."

Dean's gut clenched, barely registering it when Lucifer yanked on his hair again.

"Now I want you to suck me off. Take the head first and suck."

Dean complied grudgingly, pulling off enough to suck on just the head. Lucifer groaned, tugging sharply on his hair.

"You have gorgeous lips, Dean. I can't wait to see them all swollen from blowing me. Bob your head and use your tongue now."

Dean huffed a breath through his nose, slowly obeying. He moved his mouth up and down Lucifer's cock, working his tongue along the underside. He closed his eyes, pretending it was Sam. He could do that.

Lucifer must've been pleased with how he was doing, because the hands left his hair and he heard the click of a keyboard. Dean's brow furrowed. The asshole couldn't even look at him? He felt objectified, just a mouth to use while the executive worked on something else.

He banished the thought. Pretend it's Sam. Dean pulled back and worked his tongue along the slit, letting his eyes slide shut. He lapped at where he knew Sam was sensitive, taking the head and sucking hard like his brother liked. Slowly, he worked his way down his cock, letting it slide into his throat until his nose was pressed Sam's navel. He hummed, sending vibrations down his dick, swallowing around him. Dean made a noise of surprise when hips bucked against him, fucking into his mouth. _It's just Sam, it's just Sam_. He squeezed his eyes shut and let it happen, imagining the hand on the back of his head was bigger. Come shot down his throat, and Dean was allowed to pull back, panting lightly.

"Open your eyes, Dean."

He growled weakly, but complied. Lucifer was looking back at him with a satisfied smirk. "I like your enthusiasm. Let's try something else, now..."

The afternoon seemed to drag on, Dean's throat becoming more and more sore with each passing minute. Lucifer seemed determined to use his mouth in every way possible, having him lick, suck, and kiss in every manner. His tongue tasted like Lucifer's come, as did his throat, and the man had added some to his face. Occasionally someone would come in and Lucifer would just keep his cock deep in Dean's mouth, preventing him from breathing too deeply or making any noise.

Dean was mortified to admit that all this sucking and coming had gotten him half-hard, a fact Lucifer had quickly noticed and was delighted to tease him for.

"Like having a cock in your mouth, Dean? You're a cockslut, aren't you? Love having come on your face, you slut."

Dean had gotten the man off enough times that he lost track. He was exhausted, his will to fight depleted. Lucifer released with a grunt into his mouth again, and Dean was relieved to hear the door open. He swallowed down Lucifer's come – as he'd been ordered to do after spitting once – freezing when he heard the voice.

"Heard you had a cute ass for us to fuck."

There were shuffling feet and Dean counted one, two, three people coming into the office. His heart had jumped into his throat, barely finding the space alongside Lucifer's cock. The man pulled away and yanked on Dean's hair, bringing him up. Dean was too worn out to do anything but comply, eyes widening minutely as he caught sight of the three other men in the office.

"Damn, he looks good like that. Let's get started, yeah?"

Fuck.


End file.
